White Light
by The Eye of the Crow
Summary: Loki meets a stranger on a train. Sort of. "So," Loki started. "Don't you have any more outlandish stories to tell, just to pass the time?" "In fact, I do," the man said, gently rubbing his hands together. "But I should warn you, this one is likely to make you uncomfortable. It's about you, Loki." Loki's eyes widened. "How do you know my name?" AU


**White Light**

The train wouldn't move. There was snow faintly glowing in the darkness outside, a lot of it. There had been a promise of an early spring barely a week ago, bringing about air that was warm and light, and he felt light, too, even as he climbed the endless flight of stairs leading to his office with his briefcase, which usually weighed him down as though it was full of stones and not just papers. But the warm spell passed and winter returned with heavy, watery snow.

It was getting cold in the train, too. It was a matter time before they would announce a heating failure, Loki was sure of it. However, before it actually happened, his fellow passenger spoke up:

"Getting a little bit cold in here, isn't it."

"I suppose," Loki replied automatically before he looked at the other man, surprised. He didn't remember ever speaking to a fellow passenger on a train. Well, he might have asked someone to move their luggage or thank them when they handed him something he dropped, but that was it. He had never held an actual conversation on a train.

The man, whom he had barely spared a glance before, immersed in his work as he was, had blonde hair and wore a checkered shirt and jeans, which were undoubtedly hiding a well-build body, by the look of his forearms. He was, generally speaking, quite attractive.

Halfway through his scrutiny Loki realized that the man's cobalt blue eyes were watching him in an expectant way, as though he was waiting for Loki to say something more. Loki cleared his throat.

"I like the cold," he said and only after these words left his mouth did he realize that it sounded somehow defensive. Well, after all, defense was his strong point, wasn't it?

They were the only passengers in a four-seat compartment. Loki always took care to book his seat in advance, so he didn't end up in a six-seat one, where people had to sit awkwardly packed together. In a four-seat compartment he was far more likely to get enough quiet for his work, though sometimes he failed to find it even there. Like, right now.

Loki was sitting in a backward facing window seat, while the blond man originally occupied the seat next to the door in the running direction – this was the furthest possible distance that the small compartment provided. Now, however, the man rose from his seat to move to that directly opposite to Loki. _That clearly indicates he wants to pursue further conversation, _Loki thought and gave his closed laptop a slightly longing look. But the battery was nearly dead anyway and there was no Wi-Fi signal here, in the middle of fields covered by snow and darkness.

The man propped his chin in hand and looked at Loki.

"I can't say I'm fond of cold, myself," he said easily. "It almost killed me once, you know," he added almost as an afterthought, in the same light-hearted manner.

Loki gazed at him intently, trying to read his expression, as he used to do in court. But it showed only something that for all purposes looked like honesty_. Curious._

"How come?" he asked in the same carefree way.

The man gave him a slight smile.

"It's quite a story, I assure you. But a one you'll find unbelievable, I'm afraid."

Loki gave him a smile in return, one that held little to no warmth.

"Don't assume. In my line of work, I've met with quite a few… _stories_. I've even proved some of them true."

"An attorney, then. I thought as much."

At that moment, a female train attendant opened the door of their compartment and asked them if they wanted anything to drink. The man ordered a glass of white wine and Loki reluctantly did the same. It didn't look as though he was going to get any more work done tonight, so it was probably fine.

"It's a first time I ordered wine here," the man commented. "Usually I settle with the free coffee."

"I tried the wine once or twice and it was surprisingly good, for something you get on a train," Loki replied.

"Are you a wine connoisseur?"

Loki made a vague gesture with his hand.

"I wouldn't call myself that. But I do know a thing or two about wine, yes."

"I'm not half-bad myself," the man said and raised the glass the stewardess just handed him. He watched the wine sparkle against the light, then sniffed at it delicately. At last, he took a small sip, rolling the wine on his tongue.

He looked Loki straight in the eye.

"As a wine connoisseur, I'd say… _white. _"

This time, Loki felt a real smile creeping upon his smile.

"You're quite right. I bow before your expertise."

They spent some time in a comfortable silence, drinking their wine. Loki's eyes altered between the darkness outside and the man opposed him, but he didn't let his gaze linger for long, much as he wished too – the man was the only interesting thing around. _Speaking of which…_

"You were telling a story," Loki reminded him.

The man chuckled.

"Were I? Alright. So – what would you say if I told you that I was 96 years old?" The man asked, his expression as candid as before.

"I would ask you to share the secret of eternal youth," Loki retorted with a smirk.

"Oh, I'll share it with you. It's easy, actually. You need to get injected with super-serum and then get stuck in ice for some seventy years. Well, I don't know about the eternal part but longevity I can guarantee."

"How intriguing. But unbelievable, as you said yourself. I must tell you that I find it about as likely as this train sprouting wings and flying away from here."

"You might be in for a surprise," the man grinned. "Excuse me for a moment, will you," he said and left the compartment.

Loki took a sip of his wine and closed his eyes, suddenly feeling tired.

_His brother was looking as majestic as ever in his golden armor, swaying his hammer. But the enemy spell was flying at him from the behind, a flash of sharp blue light. He had to stop this, he couldn't let this light hit Thor. His lips started to chant sounds there were at the same time strange and familiar, and his hands moved in intricate patterns. The lightning changed its course, but it wasn't diverted away, as he had hoped. It was now coming at him, blinding him, a flash of_

white light. Loki blinked. The light in the compartment suddenly seemed so sharp that it hurt his eyes. What a dream! Saving Thor from enemy spell? His subconscious surely worked in peculiar ways. He was trying to save Thor, that was true. By clearing him from false accusations, by working the magic of his words. The train, while it still moved, was taking him to the town where Thor's hearing was held, as it did many times before.

The blonde man returned to the compartment, slightly shivering. He put on a dark blue sweater, which was making his eyes stand out rather nicely, as Loki noticed.

"The lavatory's freezing," the man said and drank the rest of his wine.

"So," Loki started. "Don't you have any more outlandish stories to tell, just to pass the time?" he asked, partly because he wanted to distract the other man from the cold, which seemed to really bother him.

"In fact, I do," the man said, gently rubbing his hands together. "But I should warn you, this one is likely to make you uncomfortable. It's about you, Loki."

Loki's eyes widened.

"How do you know my name?" he asked, in a voice as steady as he could muster.

"You'll find out soon enough," the man said with a hint of an apologetic smile. "My name's Steve, by the way. So, do you want to hear it?"

Loki wasn't sure he wanted to hear it. His heart was beating frantically and his stomach clenched in apprehension.

"You're a Norse god, Loki," the man called Steve said in a grave tone of voice.

Loki couldn't help but laugh, partly in relief. So this man was pulling his leg again.

"What gave me away? My _name_?" He asked ironically.

"I'm not joking," Steve said, his expression serious. He paused for a moment.

"You brother is Thor, the god of thunder, and Odin the All-father is your father."

"He's not my father!" Loki shrieked and then covered his mouth with his hands. A sharp pain pierced through his skull. Flashes of light were flogging his eyelids, blue and white, white, white.

Steve was suddenly sitting right next to him and hugging his shoulders with one strong arm.

"It's gonna be alright," he whispered, rubbing gentle circles on Loki's back. "It's all gonna be alright."

The train finally moved. But it wasn't forward. It was rising from the ground.

Loki watched the distant lights grew smaller in panic. He thought he heard a sound, like rustling of a thousand feathers. His bottom lip started to tremble. His hands, too.

"But I. I must. Thor would-"

"Thor is fine," Steve said as he took one of his shaking hands and looked at him with kind cobalt blue eyes.

"Wake up, Loki."

And Loki did.

* * *

**The End**

* * *

_Last night, I was stuck in a train for two hours. People around me grew frustrated or resigned; I ordered some wine and wrote this story.**  
**Also, I was greatly inspired by a beautiful piece of music called We Move Lightly by Dustin O'Halloran (it could be found on youtube).**  
**_


End file.
